


Not One Minute More

by Brumeier



Series: Bite Sized Fic [41]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Episode: s01e04 Thirty-Eight Minutes, Gen, Iratus, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fill, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6173215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>LJ Comment Fic for AU/AR prompt: <i>Stargate Atlantis, Rodney McKay +/ John Sheppard; Rodney is the loud-mouthed, insubordinate soldier who somehow became military commander of the expedition, and John is the goofily charming, brilliant scientist who somehow ended up on his gate team.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Not One Minute More

John was used to working under pressure. He didn’t achieve the position of CSO by cowering in a corner when things got hard, and that was a good thing because life in the Pegasus galaxy was anything but easy. Already he’d faced drowning and death by energy creature, and it was still early days.

Now he held the fate of five people, not counting himself, in his hands, and an ever-shrinking window of opportunity to fix the faulty drive pods and get them home. Otherwise they’d be spaced and Sgts. Markham and Stackhouse, who had been piloting the ‘jumper through the space Gate, would have their molecules forever scattered.

Bad enough having all that pressure on him, but the de-facto military leader of the expedition, RCAF Major McKay (and one of these days he was going to find out how a Canadian officer had been second in command of a primarily American military contingent) was injured and hanging on by a thread. John wasn’t sure the expedition could survive the death of yet another commanding officer, not so soon after Sumner.

Why did it have to be a bug? John hated bugs.

McKay had a terrifyingly large insect wrapped around his throat, feeding off him somehow. Dr. Beckett was trying to lend support from Atlantis through the comms, but so far everything they tried either failed or caused the damn thing to tighten its grip. Ford said he’d even shot the bug, point blank, back on the Wraith planet. Maybe Teyla was right and it was some kind of distant Wraith ancestor.

“Stop! Stop, stop, stop!” McKay screamed. He was thrashing, hard enough to send Ford sprawling. They’d tried a salt and water combo, which had clearly hurt the bug but also hurt McKay. 

John’s heart was in his throat. He didn’t know McKay very well, aside from the fun they’d had testing out the personal shield John had discovered. He was unexpectedly smart for a flyboy, and John could admit he wasn’t bad on the eyes either, all broad shoulders and muscular arms. He didn’t want anything to happen to McKay. 

“Major!” John barked, using the same tone of voice that got his staff’s attention when things got rowdy in the labs. “I’m doing my best to get us back, but I can’t concentrate if you’re going to scream like a girl every five seconds.”

Ford gaped at him, but McKay just gave him a narrow-eyed look. “You idiots are going to kill me before this thing does. Work faster.”

“I’m doing the –” John paused, a control crystal in his hands, and the glimmer of a fairly terrible idea in his mind. He was no biologist, but he thought he had a way to take care of at least one of their problems. “Carson?” 

_Yes, John?_

“This bug, it’s a parasite, right? What if we take away its food source?”

“Wait. What? That doesn’t sound good.” For someone with a bug wrapped around his throat, McKay didn’t seem to be having much trouble talking.

_You might be on to something. What did you have in mind?_

“If we stop the Major’s heart with the defibrillator, the bug might detach itself and then we’d have an easier time killing it.”

“You want to _kill_ me? Are you insane? This is mutiny!” McKay winced as the bug incrementally tightened its grasp.

_That just might work, lad. Good thinking._

“Hey! Don’t I get a say? This is my life you’re talking about so cavalierly.”

For all McKay’s agitated bluster, John could see that he understood it was his only shot. He felt sick for even having suggested it, but he couldn’t see how they had any other options. 

“Do it,” McKay told Ford. “But if you don’t revive me I will haunt you forever.”

“Sir, I don’t think –”

“That’s an order, Lieutenant!” McKay snapped. He looked up at John. “Get everyone back to Atlantis in one piece, Dr. Sheppard.”

“No man left behind,” John promised. 

He wanted to turn away when Ford got the defib out, but he felt obligated to watch since it had been his idea. He had time to mouth _sorry_ before Ford stopped McKay’s heart. John swallowed down the bile that rose up his throat.

For a long few seconds, it seemed like nothing was happening. In the back of John’s mind there was clock counting down. How long could they leave McKay in that state and still have a chance of bringing him back? But the bug finally unwrapped itself from McKay’s neck and Ford was able to blast it into a gooey mess. John held his breath while Ford attempted to shock McKay’s heart back to beating. And kept holding his breath until he almost choked on it.

“I killed him.” 

“He is not dead yet,” Teyla said firmly. “If we go through the Gate, he will stay in a kind of stasis, yes?”

Ford notified Beckett, who promised to have a team standing by. John helped Teyla get McKay up, his body a dead weight that made John’s chest ache. He’d done that. He was responsible.

“And then there were two,” he muttered, after Teyla dragged McKay through the shimmering event horizon.

Ford clapped him on the shoulder. “You can do this.”

John hoped to hell he was right. He went back to testing the circuits, following the instructions Dr. Zelenka had sent to his tablet. If they got through this, he was giving the little Czech anything he wanted.

_Two minutes, Dr. Sheppard._

“Not helping.” John could feel Ford’s eyes on him, could practically smell his desperation. The kid didn’t want to die, and that was something John understood all too well.

“Got it!” There was a metallic clanking sound as the drive pods finally retracted, and John had a moment of shared relief with Ford until they both noticed that their trouble wasn’t over yet.

“Why aren’t we moving?” Ford asked.

“Shit! Inertia! Why the hell didn’t I think of that?”

“What?”

“We have no forward momentum to carry us through the gate,” John explained. Ford immediately started throwing himself against the bulkhead, but it was a futile gesture.

_Dr. Sheppard._

A new voice crackled over the comm and it took John a second or two to put a face and a name to it. “Kavanagh. What’ve you got?”

_Blow the rear hatch._

“Yes! That should do it!” John headed for the manual controls, but Ford blocked him.

“I’m sorry, Sir, but I can’t let you do that.”

“Lieutenant –” John was ready to stand his ground, but Ford had other ideas. He manhandled John up to the event horizon.

“Atlantis needs you.”

John opened his mouth, ready to lambaste the lieutenant for presuming that just because he was a scientist, John wasn’t capable of making a noble sacrifice. He figured he owed them, since McKay might very well continue to be dead despite his best efforts. But Ford just grinned, and with less than a minute to go shoved him through the event horizon.

*o*o*o*

McKay spent a day in the infirmary, getting his wound tended to and recovering from being dead, even though it had only been for sixty-seven seconds. John knew because he’d kept count, had watched Carson hit McKay with the defib several times on the floor of the ‘jumper bay before his heart finally started beating again. It had been the longest sixty-seven seconds of John’s life, tacked on to thirty-eight minutes he never wanted to relive.

John stood nervously at the foot of McKay’s bed. The Major looked much better than he had the last time John had seen him: he had a large white bandage on his neck covering the world’s worst hickey, but his color was good.

“Dr. Sheppard. Come to finish me off?”

“I just wanted to apologize.” Even moreso, he wanted to never find himself in the position where he had to make life or death decisions for anyone. With the way things were shaping up in the Pegasus galaxy, though, he didn’t hold out much hope for that.

“For saving everyone’s lives? Don’t be an idiot.” McKay crossed his arms over his chest, his normally down-turned mouth twitching up in something that was almost a grin. “You did good out there, Sheppard. Clearly I knew what I was doing, asking you to be on my team. I owe you for that screaming like a girl crack, though.”

And then the smile was there, and John couldn’t help but smile back in return. McKay was an okay guy.

“Oh, Dr. Sheppard. There you are.” Ford came bounding into the infirmary. “Teyla and I were looking for you. You want to get some lunch with us?”

“Sure.” He was surprised, and pleased. Maybe it wasn’t so crazy, thinking they could be a team.

“Bring me back something,” McKay demanded. “Nothing with citrus!”

“Yes, Sir. I know, Sir.” Ford grinned.

“Well, what are you waiting for? You want me to pass out from manly hunger over here?”

“Such a drama queen,” John said with a smirk. He followed Ford out of the infirmary, McKay sputtering his outrage at John’s back.

It was good to be alive.


End file.
